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#yandere jason todd
Note
Hello!! Big fan of your work especially the way you characterize Arkham Knight Jason
For the RP event:
“ I want us to have a future together.. I want us to be married however small the wedding… want us to have a family, even if it’s only dogs and cats, I want us to grow old together regardless of how long I have to wait, I’ll wait for you, time and time again. “
AAAA I WAS FINALLY ABLE TO MAKE IT ON TIME! Everytime I miss the rp event or I see it just as it ends, glad I was able to make it this time! (Sorry for grammar mistakes, English is my second language)
He looks up at you with wide eyes, holding himself back from wrapping his arms around you. He doesn't deserve you. He's too broken, too empty to have that kind of peaceful life with you. A future. A million scenarios run through his head, all ending with you dead and mangled and him left alone again. Joker was right. It's inevitable. He's a pit, just like Joker, just like Bruce--
He shuts his eyes and clenches his fists, forcing himself to breathe. No. HE'S in control of his own head. Joker's dead, Bruce will be soon, and you're still here. And you make him remember what it feels like to have hope.
He opens his eyes and pulls you against his chest, trapping you in a hug so tight that it's probably making you wince. He just needs to ground himself and remind himself that you're still right there with him and that this isn't another hallucination or a dream, that he still isn't trapped in the asylum.
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klemen-tine · 1 month
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No Prince Charming
(Batfam x Mom!Reader)
Anonymous asked:
Hello, I really like your work.
I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.
Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.
Sorry if it's too much.
And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator
Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.
It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 
Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 
A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 
“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 
Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 
But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 
“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 
As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 
Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  
Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 
Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 
She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 
“I’m sorry Richard.” 
“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 
In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 
Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 
“Bruce please.” 
“I am busy.” 
“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 
“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 
When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 
Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 
She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 
“Honey, are you happy?” 
“Of course Mama.” 
“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 
Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 
She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 
For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 
The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 
“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 
“Is that so?” 
“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 
“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 
“And the kids?” 
“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 
It's good to see some of that coming back. 
Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 
“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 
When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 
“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 
“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 
Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 
“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 
He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 
Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 
He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 
Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 
“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 
Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 
Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 
He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”
“Holy shit.” 
“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 
Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 
“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 
Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 
Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 
Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 
Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 
“Fucking hell.” 
++++
Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 
She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.
Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 
It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 
“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 
 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 
“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 
“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 
He knows this. She knows this. 
And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 
It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 
He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.
“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 
“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 
Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 
“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 
“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 
Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 
A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 
So, of course they have had sex. 
Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 
Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 
Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 
It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 
Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 
Batman was never Prince Charming.
_________________________________________________________
Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.
@problematicreblogger
@kurai-hono-blog
@rosecentury
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months
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Menace! Reader who keeps using the batfam’s real names during patrols/fights.
Menace! Reader who doesn’t take patrol/fights or most heists seriously at all. They have numerous plans already prepared for the case that they lose or get bodied which is all the time. But they always escape even if the boys don’t purposely let them off
Bruce will say it’s cause Menace! Reader knows and won’t hesitate to expose their true identities to the world. Which is true, but Menace! Reader thinks he’s being too dramatic.
I mean it’s not like they have an entire document detailing the atrocities Batman could have prevented if he didn’t have that stupid no-kill rule. The lives and people that has been lost to Joker. Detailing each one of them so they won’t end up as just a number under that monster’s belt.
Menace! Reader who’s always, always there for everyone of the Batfam’s members if they’re needed. Ever since Jason’s death, they made sure to keep tabs on every one of Batman’s kids.
Menace! Reader who hides how much they care, how deathly afraid they are of losing anyone in that family, Robin or not.
Yandere! Batfamily who knows of all of this and would die before anyone ever hurts you.
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toast-on-dandelioms · 4 months
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What if reader accidentally called superman "dad" while they were on a mission? Like Batman needed some help tracking down some new murder cult and thought Spider could help? But they wouldn't come unless superman wasnt there since Spider does NOT trust the batfam?
Ok so, I'mma make a scene with your idea and then say what it would happen. Just to then explain how the Batfam would react.
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You were called with Clark to a mission, knowing the Batfam was there but you didn't care since you knew Clark would protect you from them.
Plus you made sure to grab two tasers this time and incorporated a new type of web fluid that could emit electricity when it hits someone.
You did create it so you didn't have to use a taser but also so you could tase anyone of the Batfam that would dare to get too close to you or even touch you during the mission.
Clark finally landed while you adjusted your mask since you took it off while you were flying to feel the air in your (long/short) hair.
You looked at the batfam, already annoyed when they didn't even do anything but just their presence was a source of anger and annoyance for you.
While the Batfam was also annoyed that Clark was there but he had to come or you wouldn't even consider going with them to a mission.
You didn't say anything to them, just giving them the blank stare your mask provided and just stayed next to Clark, listening to them talk about what everyone was supposed to do in the mission.
Bruce did try to make you go with him or any of his kids, making you nervous since you couldn't really refuse without any excuse. You did have one but you can't really say "I refuse to go with any of your kids (directed to Batman) because I hate all of you".
But Clark surprised you by refusing any option of you going with any on the Bats and stated that you would go with him, making you smile a little and lean a little on the kryptonian.
Which made all of the Bats jealous and angry at the kryptonian.
At the end you were supposed to go with Superman in the hideout of the cult, which you were happy about it and quickly followed the kryptonian while ignoring the glares of the Batfam that were directed towards Clark.
Well, during the mission you got separated from Superman in the fight against the cultist when they suddenly ambushed both of you, making you panic since you never fought so many people at once.
Yes you did fight small gangs but usually they were just kids and you just had to punch one and all of them backed down immediately. So fighting a large group of people that knew how to fight was a bit difficult and extremely different from what you're used to.
Plus your panic doubled when you saw Damian and Dick approaching, probably to help you but in the fight and the panic in your mind made them seem even more dangerous than the cultists trying to stab you.
So you did the only reasonable thing that your scared mind wanted. You called for Clark while fighting three cultists at the same time, tasing a few of them while fighting.
The problem? You accidentally called him dad.
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Bruce Wayne: oh god how angry was he when he heard that from Dick and Damian's coms.
(He still doesn't know who you are behind the mask but already sees you as one of your kids even though you're already are)
He quickly finished fighting the leader and ran to where you were supposed to be, quickly knocking out anyone who was in his way.
He did kill a few of those in his way, but he made sure to hide the bodies and will deal with it later by burning down the hideout.
He finally arrived at the spot where you and the others were supposed to be and he saw something that made him want to grab his kryptonite batarang to hit Clark.
Why? He saw you in Clark's arms, hugging him with all your might while he flew so neither Dick and Damian could reach you.
Plus the worst thing was the sick smile Clark had in his smile, like he planned it. Like he knew you weren't ready to go in such a big mission and would probably call him in a panic.
Bruce just glared at the kryptonian and signaled him to get out with you so they could get rid of the rest of the cultists.
Basically Bruce would be a jealous bitch even though he doesn't care about you when you don't have the mask on, and would use his anger against all the cultists there since he blamed them instead of blaming himself.
Clark Kent: oh he would be so smug whenever he sees Bruce and you're not with him.
Especially since he planned it. He might not be as smart as the Batfam but he knows people and especially you.
He knew you weren't ready for such a big mission since you mostly trained with him and fought small gangs in Gotham.
He knew you would panic while fighting and knew you would call for him when you couldn't do it anymore.
The dad part was a surprise but a happy one for Clark, he became so smug when you jumped in his arms when he quickly flew to you.
He did see the glares he received from almost all the batkids and especially Batman, to which he responded with a smug smile while rubbing your back.
He left with you since you didn't want to stay and he also knew Bruce caught the leader so he didn't have any reasons to stay.
Not sure if you also wanted the Batkids but I didn't add them, just comment if you also want to have the batkids reaction and I will add it!
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anxiousnerdwritings · 4 months
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I am going FERAL over this imagine:
So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))
So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).
And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader
And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"
Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀\*)(///∇///)
I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️
TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies
(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)
I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.
I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.
I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.
At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.
Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.
I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn’t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.
Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.
It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.
Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)
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i-cant-sing · 6 months
Note
I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.
No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.
Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.
Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.
Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).
The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"
And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.
You didn't like either nickname.
Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.
Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.
And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.
Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.
Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.
"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"
After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.
The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.
It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"
Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.
Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.
You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.
You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.
It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.
"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."
She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.
She died on the spot.
Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.
She wasn't a fucking Wayne.
If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.
But you didn't.
When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.
"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"
You sighed. Might as well get this over with.
You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.
"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."
Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"
"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."
"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.
"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.
"But I don't want you to move-"
You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"
Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.
"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"
Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"
"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.
-
They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.
He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.
Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.
"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.
"What now?"
"Where are you going?" Tim asked.
"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.
"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?
"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.
"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.
You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-
They were all dead serious.
"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.
"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.
"Bruce-"
"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."
"I'm fine-"
"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."
You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.
Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.
After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.
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blughxreader · 10 months
Text
... "Re-connection Session" ...
A/B/O Platonic Yandere! Dick Grayson & Jason Todd x f! Reader
You never should have let Damian sleep in your lap, especially after rejecting Dick and Jason's request for attention. Now you have their jealousy to resolve. ... Dick and Jason are alphas and you are an omega. People can purr in this AU. ... TW: Blurred lines between family and intimacy, post-kidnap, non-consensual touching, forced proximity, being forced to undress, non-sexual nudity, traditional secondary gender roles
You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror in silent dread.
Dick's old shirt hung low on your frame, the neckline falling past your collarbones and the hem dropping to your fingertips. The sleeves, thankfully, covered you to your elbows, but the desired effect was the same: easy access to your body.
This, accompanied by your underwear and Jason's basketball shorts were all you were allowed to wear.
Fear sat in your stomach line a rock. You were sure you were releasing enough panic pheromones to alert the whole house, but there was no frantic knocking to save you. Just you, your pounding heart, and the two men on the other side of the door.
Wiping your sweaty hands down your pants, you gave yourself one last look before leaving the bathroom. Dick's bedroom spread out before you, filled with old memorabilia and a large, plush bed in the center.
Dick and Jason were leaning against the wall in wait, arms crossed and heads tilted back. Dick grinned when he saw you.
"Alright, good," he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. "It's a little late for an afternoon nap, so movie time?"
Dick's scent clung to you like a cologne, sweet and tangy. An alpha's smell was already stronger to omegas, but being wrapped in his shirt and pressed into his side was almost overwhelming. Jason, whose scent was more earthy and metallic, was a small reprieve.
Jason looked you up and down, appraising your posture and expression. You knew it was useless to try to hide your feelings, but you couldn't fight the urge to look away. You crossed your arms to cover yourself.
He reached over and ran a hand over your temple, brushing back stray curls. Jason, while never the most emotive on a day-to-day basis, had a cloudy expression today. His gaze bore into you, drinking up every micro-expression you tried to hide and cataloguing each one.
"No trash TV," Jason finally said. He dropped his hand and fell into stride with you and Dick, who was guiding you to his bed.
Dick dipped his head down so his cheek brushed your forehead. "What do you want to watch?"
"Anything is fine."
"Nope, that's not allowed," Dick lightly scolded. "This weekend's all about getting familiar. You need to learn how to go along with the family."
Your mind blanked as you scrambled to remember any move you've ever seen before. Embarrassment pricked your cheeks. "Maybe Pixar..."
Dick stopped you at the edge of the bed. He ruffled the back of Jason's hair before slapping his back, earning his hand a hard swat.
"You first, little wing."
Jason rolled his eyes and climbed on the bed, flopping into place on the silk covers. Dick ushered you on next with gentle hands, not giving you an inch of space as he followed suit.
You were settled into Jason's side, your front pressing into the long expanse of his body. Jason shifted and pulled off his shirt with one hand, tossing it off the bed before leaning back into you.
Your insides lurched at his naked chest, and you were boneless when he guided your head to rest on his shoulder. Jason's body was warm and sturdy. He eclipsed you in ways that made your heart flutter.
You tighten your arms around your chest to keep these stray feelings at bay.
Dick settled behind you with a happy sigh, shirtless as well. He weaseled your arm out of your hold and settled it over Jason's chest to maximize contact, then rested his hand on your waist.
His breath fanned the back of your head when he whispered, "I'm going to lift your shirt up now."
You held back a whimper when his hand slid beneath your shirt, trailing up your stomach to settle between your ribs. His palm spread flat, fingers reaching the better half of your stomach. He was dangerously close to brushing your breasts, but remained careful not to stray too far up.
Jason's hand trailed in next, gliding over your hip and up your spine, where it settled between your shoulder blades. His thumb brushed up and down in slow, even strokes.
They were everywhere. Their arms lay flushed against your body, touching as much skin as they possibly could, while their stomachs pressed into yours where your shirt had slid up. Their nudged your legs until you were tangled in theirs.
As hard as you tried to fight it, it was instinctual for pack members to seek physical contact. Touch was one of the most primal and easiest ways to show affection and community, so you knew that your days of solitude were numbered.
But this...
Tingles spread through your whole body, exacerbated by how touch-starved you were. The feeling of oneness, of unbridled intimacy with your family, sank deep into your heart.
Resist, resist, resist. You're stronger than these urges.
Your breathing accelerated. You knew what to expect going into this, but nothing could have prepared you for how emotionally penetrating it was. It was as if your very nature and mind were at war.
A steady purr rumbled in their chests as they basked in your company, soaking in as much of your warmth as they could. Jason's nose brushed your forehead, placing feather light kisses where he could reach. Dick was crooning.
Cold sweat prickled your skin.
Your hand tightened around Jason's back as claustrophobia set in. The purring turned to a low rumble and the pheromones in the air turned sour.
"Hey," Jason said softly. "You have to settle down."
You swallowed thickly to abate your fear. "You guys got defensive."
Dick nudged his nose on your neck, right above your scent glands. "Because you started smelling scared."
Oh.
You inhale shakily to calm your nerves. Jason hummed in your ear, a low, pleased sound.
"Good girl," he said. "Keep doing that. We have you."
You sucked in a sharp breath in defiance. Jason humphed. Dick laughed against your skin and squeezed your stomach playfully, grinning as he said, "You're as bad as Damian."
They nestled you tighter between them, purrs rumbling anew. Amidst the panic in your chest stirred another feeling. Maybe it's because you're getting drunk on an alpha's attention, but you felt a childish need to complain.
"How long will this take?" You asked, shifting uncomfortably between their sandwiched bodies.
Jason's face tightened around his eyes. "As long as it takes."
"For what?" you asked, frustration bubbling up your throat. "I've more than made up for turning you down yesterday."
"You need to want our touch," Dick said. He hesitated, mulling over if he should continue, then went on. "I think that if you let your guard down for a second and trusted your instincts, you would understand how much you need this."
"My guard is down. I'm completely defenseless," you hissed.
"Not what he was talking about. And that's what I'm not understanding, either," Jason said, frowning. "You're confused. You're completely out of touch with yourself."
The silence was heavy. They were waiting for you to speak, but you didn't trust anything that would come out of your mouth. You let the silence stretch on.
Jason's grimace deepened. "Are you having trouble being an omega because you were never taught how to be one?"
You scoffed, scandalized. Your frustration sparked into flames. "Because I don't know my place in an alpha's narrative?"
"No," Jason said defensively. "Because you don't know how to purr."
You couldn't respond.
You hadn't purred in years because there was no reason to. You weren't young, haven't dated in ages, didn't have any kids, and you definitely weren't about to purr for the Bats.
"I haven't heard you croon either. Or even ask to be held," Dick mumbled in thought.
Heat crept up your neck. They were wading in embarrassing waters now. You weren't a loser, just a little lonely—that's the only reason you stopped doing omegean things. And being their captive was a good enough reason to withhold everything.
These thoughts were enough when you were alone, but the shame creeping up your chest was startling.
Jason's hand drifted to your face, fingers sliding gently over your cheek. He used a knuckle to brush the tears from your eyelashes.
"It's okay to face these scary feelings," Jason whispered, face mere inches away. He looked at you with sad, loving eyes, while his scent was a whirlwind of conflicting emotion. Hope. Pity. Anger. Love.
Dick kissed the shell of your ear, thumb gliding over your skin where his hand rested. A soft rumble drifted from his chest. He said, "You're safe with us. It'll come naturally if you just let it."
The crux was that you didn't want to try. You wanted to withhold every valuable part of yourself from them and to make them pay for ruining your life.
But at the same time, you yearned to have a family. There was a vital part in your heart that was missing, one that could only be filled by belonging and love. You didn't want to ignore your secondary gender but you didn't want to share it with them, either.
Don't whimper. Don't smell like you want help.
You clamped your jaw shut and squeezed your eyes closed. Their pheromones filled the air with comfort, home, want, and it took every ounce of willpower to ignore the alphas' scents.
Jason kissed your eyelid, cupping your head in his palm. His purring and crooning joined Dick's, and it nearly drowned out your heartbeat hammering in your ears.
---
You passed the night in a daze. They nudged you to try to croon or purr, washing you with their scents and physical contact, but their efforts didn't yield results. Outwardly, that is.
Inside, you were swimming with panic and haziness.
Skin-to-skin touching was starting to take a toll on you. In a stronger headspace, you could ignore the pleasant allure of touching them, but your boundaries and primal needs were beginning to blur.
They felt good. They felt safe. You wanted to cling to Jason's chest and sob in relief at finally being wanted. You wanted Dick to keep cooing and petting you like you were the most cherished thing in his life. Each kiss stoked a fire you were desperately trying to put out.
At the same time, your defiance was making them restless. Dick and Jason had begun to smell more potent and move more assertively. Omegas weren't meant to resist their alpha pack members, especially in a domestic setting.
Despite a tiring night of caressing and pleading, you didn't loosen your tight control on your emotions. Dick and Jason were still completely cut off from you, and you could tell they were thinking of ways to get you to fold.
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, accompanied by the muffled voices of Sunday morning cartoons. All of you were on Dick's bed and eating in silence.
The soup in your lap was one of Alfred's "sick soups." It was hardy and chock-full of vegetables and pork, and made especially to ease the tension in the room.
Their heavy gazes kept your head bowed as you tried to eat what little food you could.
Dick's bowl clinked as he set it on the floor.
"Submission isn't shameful," he said suddenly. "Is that what this is? You think it makes you less of a person?"
You look down into your soup, lips tightening. "No, I know it's fine... I would just prefer to keep things how they are."
"Why?" Dick said, scooting closer to you.
"It's my choice."
"No, why?" Frustration cut into Dick's voice. "I'm trying to work with you."
"Is bodily autonomy not a good enough reason?" You bit back. "I don't know, Dick. 'No' should be a good enough answer."
Jason's hand touched your back, making you lurch forward. Soup nearly spilled from your bowl, but Dick caught it in time. Jason sighed angrily while Dick set your food on the bedside table.
"This isn't normal," Jason said hotly. "Omegas shouldn't flinch at their caretakers, especially when they're treated as well as you are."
You gripped the bed sheets, guilt filtering in at the truth in his words. "Sorry," you said meekly.
Jason deflated slightly, then brought his hand back up. It settled on the nape of your neck, his large palm cupping the entire surface. Tingles rippled through your body and ignited goosebumps across your back.
Jason rested his head on yours, absently rubbing the scent pad in his cheek on your hair. He said, "Did something bad happen that made you afraid?"
"No," you said quickly. Aside from being kidnapped by them, that is.
Dick moved in closer. His voice was soft. "Then why?"
"I just..." You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your eyes with a palm. "This domesticity just isn't for me."
"You need to practice," Dick reiterated. "Maybe we can give you a simple command and you follow it? So you'll get used to how it feels?"
You peek between your fingers to glare at him.
"No, really. I read some omegean blogs that said yielding to your alpha's orders feels really good." Dick looked between you and Jason hopefully. "Or we can read some articles by older omegas so you know how to handle your feelings?"
You held back a sharp comment about where he can shove those articles. Instead you said, "Only people with religious agendas write those things."
Jason looked like he agreed, but he didn't take your side.
"We can't do nothing," Jason said, eyes flitting up to Dick.
Dick sucked the inside of his cheek. "And she's unresponsive to positive reinforcement and suggestions."
Fear brewed in your gut. "What are you implying?"
Dick touched your knee, drawing your attention to his face. "You need to purr. Or present submissive pheromones. It'll break the dam so everything comes out easier."
A blush swept up your face and you jerked your knee away from him. "You can't just ask that. No. My answer is no."
Dick's gaze returned to Jason's. Dick frowned, then quirked a brow. "People purr to self-sooth, too."
You tensed. "Dick. Stop."
Jason hesitated, face pinching at the fear in your scent. "What do you suggest?"
"Full body contact and commands. It'll overwhelm her, so she'll self-sooth then default to the natural order."
"Jason." Your voice was high and sharp. "Make him stop. This is wrong."
"Jay," Dick said, looking every bit as sincere as he sounded. "I know you're apprehensive, but she won't come to this conclusion herself. She needs to be guided in a controlled environment."
Jason's face screwed up in worry. "It's traumatic."
"Temporarily. She'll be in our care the whole time," Dick reassured him. "It'll be over the moment she submits."
"Please, Jason, no!" You pushed your face into Jason's chest, clinging to his chest. Tears poured down your face as you shook. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder. Whatever this is, don't do it."
Jason's jaw set, the muscles in his neck flexing. "Then purr."
"What?"
"I'm giving you a way out. You have to trigger your primal state and ask for our care. It's not something you can do manually, so start by purring."
"I..." Your breath caught in your lungs. You were too scared to purr, much less seek their comfort for anything.
You swallowed hard and coughed weakly, trying to activate your secondary vocal cords.
Several moments of silence passed before a small huff of a rumble left your throat. It sounded pathetic to your own ears, probably more-so to theirs, and your throat constricted from embarrassment.
"Forcing me won't make me want to... do that," you said weakly, breath hitching from your tears. "Isn't there another way?"
Dick sighed deeply. "Thanks for trying."
He leaned in and kissed your neck, rubbing his hand in comforting circles on your back. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, still shaking against Jason's chest. Dick smiled softly and kissed your neck again before drawing back.
"Jason," Dick said, "hold her feet down."
Jason's hands clamped around your legs before you could register Dick's words. Your world tilted and you were on your back before you could shout.
"No! Please!" You thrashed against his hold when Dick descended on you.
Dick put a hand on your chest to keep you down, then pinned you with his knee. Your hands clawed everywhere you could reach, but they paid no mind.
"You're fine. You're wearing underwear, right?" Dick asked. His finger hooked on your waistband, pulling it up to confirm. "Yeah. Look, just focus on breathing."
"No! No!" you shrieked as your pants slipped down your thighs.
Jason kept you from kicking, although it probably wouldn't matter either way. Their bodies were hardened from years of vigilante work and they moved together like a machine.
They unhooked your pants from your ankles and dropped it off the bed. You tried to curl into a ball, but their weight on your body kept you immobile.
You begged again, reaching out to Jason for help. His face was twisted in pain but he made no move to stop it. The comforting scent he pushed out did nothing to quell your panic.
Dick hushed you gently, face pleasant and movements slow, and reached for your shirt.
"I'm not wearing a bra!" you shouted hysterically, trying fruitlessly to push his knee off your chest.
Dick looked down at you patiently. "Then slip your arms in your shirt and cover yourself."
You stared up at him with wide eyes. Was he really, really about to do this? Trigger you so it activates your omegean instincts?
When he grabbed the edge of your shirt, your heart jumped up your throat. You wrangled your arms inside your sleeves and covered your breasts as well as you could.
Dick took his knee off your chest and dragged the shirt up over your body. It slid off with ease, leaving you in only your underwear.
You sobbed loudly.
Jason scooped you into his arms and pulled you up the bed. He settled you on a soft pillow, nuzzling his cheek against yours in silent apology.
You immediately curled into a ball when their hands left you. To your horror you saw them strip off their pants as well, leaving them in only their boxers.
"God, stop," you plead, voice breaking.
"It's okay," Dick whispered as he slid into place in front of you. "We do this all the time. It's important."
Perhaps he was referring to the after-workout cuddle piles, but even those had longer pants and chest coverage for girls.
The heat from their bodies sank into your flesh and disrupted your frantic thinking. Your alphas—no, Dick and Jason, you corrected—held you like you were sacred. It was a feeling of your deepest daydreams come true, to have a pack that was so open about their care for you.
If only they hadn't kidnapped you.
The compulsion to accept their love dug deep in your mind, and you found it harder and harder to remember the reasons why you shouldn't. Your anger began to seem trivial compared to the safety and adoration they promised.
Tears fell down your cheeks again, and you clung to Dick's chest to anchor yourself. He laid several kisses on the crown of your head.
"I'm going to give you some orders, okay?" Dick said. "You'll be compelled to follow them."
"I don't want to," you croaked.
"That time has passed," Jason mumbled, stroking your arm with his thumb.
Dick cleared his throat, and your blood ran cold in anticipation.
"Hold Jason's hand." Dick's alpha voice struck you like a cannon.
The command wound around every corner of your mind. It strangled your freewill in a vice hold, suffocating any lingering thoughts of freedom until all that was left was them.
An alpha's command wasn't absolute, but it was damn near close.
Your insides rattle with a urge to hurry, hurry and complete alpha's orders. Make Brother happy.
Cold sweat spread across your back, making you feel sickly and sticky. Your eyesight narrowed to Dick's chest as you fought off the intrusive thoughts, not noticing anything but your vision blackening around the edges.
Please, no no no no no.
Jason's hand hovered next to yours, making it easy for you to obey.
"I... I c-c..." you stuttered.
Follow, follow, follow, your mind screamed at you. Brother will be disappointed.
You clung to Dick's bicep and screwed your eyes shut. A disapproving growl bubbled in Dick's throat.
"Take it," Dick ordered, grabbing your wrist and holding it above Jason's hand. "It's for your own good, so take it."
Jason bumped his head into yours and pushed you towards Dick's neck. You tried to squirm away, but their bodies kept you immobile, leaving your only option to settle your nose into Dick's neck and breathe.
The smell was intoxicating. It was impossible to fight off—his warm and strong scent flooding your head and making your mind melt.
Without you realizing, a broken whine left your throat. Dick and Jason reacted instantly. They hugged you tighter, shushing you and peppering kisses wherever they could reach.
Their scent changed too. Frustration was pushed out by love, comfort, love, and it smothered your senses. You whimpered, your whole body shuttering from your tears.
Fuck, you wanted your alphas so badly. Your brother's comfort enveloped you and left nothing else to do but welcome it.
Your guilt and doubt multiplied at rapid speed. Maybe you were wrong for rejecting this. Being close and following their orders felt as good as Dick had said, so maybe they were right about other things, too.
"She's defaulting" Jason said, words fast and nervous.
You whined again, broken and airy and filled with all the conflicting misery you felt. Your sense of self slipped between your fingers like water, making room for the person they wanted you to become—who you were commanded to become.
The heat of their bodies made your world spin. Their loving touches make your mind blank.
Dick shushed you and cooed comforting words, and the resilient voice in your head silenced.
Oh god, they felt like your soulmates. This seemed predestined, like you were born to be in their family.
Your exposed bodies pressing together destroyed the illusion of self, giving way to their truest law: you were theirs, body and soul.
"One more time," Dick muttered. His voice deepened to say, "Hold Jason's hand."
You moved without thinking. Your fingers tangled into Jason's, your palm laying flat over his hand.
Relief bloomed in your chest, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted. The compulsion was replaced by deep satisfaction, one you found yourself craving again.
You listened and did good. Brothers are happy. You are loved.
Dick's grin was radiant. Tears sprung in his eyes as emotions overtook him, making his blue irises shine like gems. Quiet sniffles came from behind you, and by the jerkiness in Jason's body, you knew he was crying.
"Good girl," Dick praised, voice watery. "My baby."
Jason's nose pressed into your neck, taking shaky breaths of your scent. It calmed him slightly, yet his voice was still uneven. "She's feeling better. Do another one, Dick."
"Kiss me," Dick ordered.
Your lips pressed against his shoulder, and again on his collarbone. Dick laughed and sniffled, unintelligible croons tumbling from his mouth.
Your mind was a haze, unable to process anything but the two alphas around you. Your brothers were here and you were safe. How had you lived without this love for so long?
It was like an avalanche of pent-up emotions poured into your body. You were relieved to be free, angry at the pain you inflicted on yourself, and so, so happy to belong to Dick and Jason.
"I love you," Jason muttered into your hair.
Dick kissed your face, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb over your skin. "I love you so much."
Your inner omega melted.
Love, love, love. Their scent consumed you.
You felt defined by their love, and felt like you would be nothing outside of it.
---
Dick's head was light from glee. "Did you see her stumble out of bed? She was still riding that high."
Jason didn't respond. He sat at the edge of Dick's bed while the aforementioned brother paced around his room.
Dick was too worked up to wait for a response.
"I bet it'll only take a week or two before she seeks the pack out. The attention's like a drug, you know. " Dick waved a hand. "I forgot the chemical. Whatever. But she definitely can't go back to being detached."
Jason's stomach squeezed at Dick's prideful smile.
"I feel slimy," Jason said, gripping his hands together tightly.
Dick abruptly stopped. "What?"
Jason didn't respond. He stared up at Dick with a grim look.
Several expressions passed Dick's face before he said, "That's all you took away from this?"
"I've written papers about why overpowering omegas is outdated and wrong."
"Yeah? I agreed too until we had a hurting omega in our care," Dick said. "Besides, if you feel like that then why didn't you say anything?"
Jason's jaw muscles tightened. "I said using an alpha's command was shitty, not unnecessary."
"It was beautiful, Jason," Dick hissed, temper flaring. "And she'll be happier because of it."
Dick stormed out, his good mood evaporated. The door slammed behind him, and Jason waited until he couldn't hear Dick's stomping before heaving a long sigh.
Jason hoped you wouldn't be too upset once you accepted their care. He made a vow to keep you safe and happy, and he would fulfill that promise even if you hated him for it.
Still, it hurt.
Jason's eyes drifted back to Dick's bed, to the spot where you had been lying. He crawled over and laid down, pushing his face into the sheets, and inhaled your fading scent.
---
For more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!
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gotham-daydreams · 8 months
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i just had a thought
you know what would really fuck up the batfam in the "not tonight" series imagine the reader instead of leaving gets kidnnaped and when the batfam saves them reader breaks down into crying in relief because they genuenly believed the batfam would not bother to save them
Imagine the absolute horror the batman would feel
I know its a little farfetched but i live for the angst
No, no! I love that idea!!! And it isn't all that farfetched seeing as the reader is a well known musician on some level, and even if that wasn't the case- they're still the kid of Bruce Wayne. Which, honestly, is enough motivation for someone to kidnap them, I'd say. Especially if the reasoning is for money, revenge/jealousy, or both honestly.
Besides all that, though- oh my god that would be awful! I love it!
Because imagine things from the reader's perspective (which, there is implied violence inflicted on the reader, mentions a blood, and a gun is pointed towards them. So, if it isn't your cup of tea then that's fine!):
Your 'family' that barely acknowledges you enough as it is, and the only guy who ever seems to notice that you're around is the single butler that basically takes care of everyone and everything in the manor. Now, you're kidnapped because of your relation/connection to the family, and have no hope to do anything besides just pray.
Maybe you have tried to escape before a few times at this point, but the punishment for such attempts have now gotten to the point where if you try again and fail, you'd surely die. Maybe you've also been trying so hard to escape yourself because you're just that certain and sure that the Batfam won't save you. Since, up until this point, anything dealing with or connecting back to you in some way has been ignored or dismissed one way or another. Why would something like a kidnapping be any different? Especially when they also haven't noticed other events where you have gotten hurt before.
Right from the gate, you're already thinking that the Batfam won't save you. Not that they can't, but just like with everything else- something will come up and steal away their attention, and you'll be left by yourself, and to defend yourself as always. That's what always seems to happen, and so why would now be different? In your mind, it wouldn't. So that's why when your attempts to escape fail, and the punishments not only get worse, but begin to pile up and reach a point where you think you're going to die- the situation quickly becomes much scarier.
You don't hope that Batman will suddenly show up, and instead pray that your best friend will notice your missing somehow. You don't think that Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler, or Orphan will suddenly swoop in and save the day, but instead try and hope that your producer/boss notices that you haven't replied to his calls or texts and contacts someone. You don't even consider that Red Hood or Robin will come barreling in and quickly deal with your kidnappers before rescuing you — instead all of your thoughts are filled with silent whispers and desperate pleas that someone- anyone you know will notice that you're gone, or that something is wrong, and will contact somebody. With that 'somebody' being the police or anyone of help, but not the Batfam.
Maybe a small thought does slip by, but you can only internally laugh at yourself because you either think that you've already lost enough blood to actually try and believe that lie, or your just growing that desperate to have a little hope. To have something to cling onto in this moment, that you chose the one thing that you're so convinced will never be given to you. A thought that only further cements itself in your mind the more time passes. With hours turning into days, and days to weeks.
Perhaps that's why you try to escape again. Deciding that you had better odds of succeeding despite your injuries, than the Batfam ever coming to save you. Let alone even thinking about it, or even realizing that you were gone in the first place. Taking that risk of getting caught again, and potentially getting killed this time, because no matter how hopeless or unlikely it seems for you to escape and make it out- those chances will always be higher than any single person from the Batfam showing up, and even attempting to save you. Even on accident, or on a whim- that possibility is so unlikely in your mind, that it's basically nothing more than a made up scenario or daydream to you. It's not an 'if' or 'when', but a flat out 'won't'.
Maybe that's why when you fail you get so scared, but can't help but feel like this was inevitable somehow. Of course, you don't want to die- but you had tried your best. You fought until the very end, and it almost feels a little too fitting that things ended up this way. With your efforts ending in vain, and you having nothing to show for it. With your attempts futile, and almost seeming idiotic from an outsider's point of view, and maybe it was.
You never stood a chance. You were doomed for failure. Not even all the training and experience you had could save you- and only now could you see how truly worthless all your efforts had been. With a gun pointed to your head, and your own blood providing the only warmth you've felt in days.
There's an odd sense of comfort and familiarity in the chill that shoots down your spine, and the cold gaze that one of your kidnappers give you. They're carelessness and disregard for your health reminding you of something, with their rough attacks and harsh punches bringing back times where you really did need the Batfam, only for no one to show up. Your call dying down as fast as it had risen that day, and one you never even bothered to make again.
So maybe that was why you were so surprised when help arrived, and even more so when you saw who exactly it was.
Before you could even fully register anything, you began to cry. A wide smile full of disbelief grows on your face, and more tears begin to fall as the smallest of laughs escape you. 'Unbelievable' is the first word that comes to mind when describing what you felt, and thought when you saw Batman drop down from the ceiling and deal with the guy who was about to kill you, and heard some commotion just down the hall.
At first, your convinced it's all some silly dream, and that maybe during your final moments- your mind decided to give you something nice to send you off. Almost like a warm parting gift to distract you from the hopelessness, and reality of the situation. Though it's only when pain shoots through your entire body when you move a certain way, that the thought of all of this being some made up hallucination or delusion vanishes, and you can't help but cry harder.
You don't know if it's a good or bad thing that after all this time- the one time they actually notice that you're gone, is when you not only get kidnapped, but can't escape by yourself. That the one time they acknowledge you, you're almost dead, bleeding out, and the most messy and vulnerable you've ever been.
Maybe life really did have some grudge against you to go to such lengths to fuck you over, but right now you're too relieved to be saved to care at the moment.
Yet, to say the Batfam feels awful on a totally new level, is an understatement. They understand feeling relieved, but to this extent? It's like you never expected them to come and save you at all... and that little thought seems to be true when one of them tries to help you out, and you're still laughing weakly as you continue to cry. Asking through a broken, wavering voice if all of this is real, and isn't some fucked up hallucination your having to make passing on easier. That they really showed up, and as a last ditch effort to not make your death anymore painful then it has to be- this isn't just some... dream, to make you feel like you were actually cared for in your final moments.
It breaks their hearts, a lot.
Especially when you repeat questions, as if trying to really make sure that they're there, that they're real, and aren't just some figment of your imagination. That they actually came to save you, and weren't off saving Gotham or the world itself instead. Constantly trying to be sure, as if the moment you weren't- then you'd be convinced that you were slowly dying all alone, with no hope of help coming — not even thinking that the Batfam would come — and just have to sit with that fact as you take your final breaths.
The pain you feel is almost equal to their's, and what really worries and scares most of them is how sure and certain you are that they wouldn't show up. That either the thought would never cross their minds, or that something else would come up and they'd leave you for dead, or that they just wouldn't notice that you were kidnapped at all.
Which, said fright and worry is only amplified when you have to keep asking "Are you really here? Are you sure?" And the like, and they have to keep finding ways to prove to you that yes, they are here. They're helping you, and they're not leaving- they actually managed to save you, and that you're going be okay now. That they aren't going away, and are very, very real.
Each little, broken laugh chips away at the pieces of their hearts, and your own disbelief that they can't seem to get rid of no matter what they do or say, is just a punch to the gut. You didn't just think that they wouldn't show up, but were fully convinced that they wouldn't even bother with it. That own realization just... hurts more than anything.
Had they really been that awful to you? Had they really caused you so much pain and hurt that you'd not only think of such a thing, but fully believe it? They didn't remember doing anything in particular that would cause you to think that way... but maybe that wasn't the problem. It wasn't what they did to you, but rather what they didn't do, and that's when the pieces finally begin to click.
Of course some don't want to believe it, similar to how some of them in "Not Here" express a brief moment of denial and disbelief themself, but they don't get to experience such a luxury anymore. Not with you here- bleeding, hurt, and crying from both relief and disbelief, because you couldn't believe that they actually showed up.
Even when they do quickly take you to a hospital and get you treated, that image of you is still ingrained into their minds. They can't forget it- how you looked at them and spoke, and just how you treated the whole situation because of how convinced you were.
From here they'll try to rebuild what they can, and all definitely be 100% more protective then they've ever been. The moment you're able to come home (which, you ARE coming home. No if's or but's. You don't get a chance this time.), they're doing everything in their power to not only 'fix' everything, but make sure that you are safe at all possible moments of the day.
It's safe to say that the whole experience traumatized the whole family to a certain degree. Not only with you being kidnapped- but you trying to escape multiple times and almost dying, because you were so convinced that no one would show up to help. (Which, while it was also because you can genuinely handle yourself and did believe you could escape on your own, the Batfam doesn't entirely believe that (and you almost dying doesn't help with that) so they chalk it up to you being desperate, because you 'knew' that no one was coming to save you. Which also may or may not make certain people worse in the process.) So they're already leaning pretty heavy on the yandere tendencies. Which most likely develop over the time you're in the hospital, and into your first week or so staying in the Manor.
Which does lead us to your little addition:
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Which, you are very correct!!!
Our boy Jason, put in very simple terms, doesn't take the situation well. At all.
Seeing you bloodied, bruised, abused, malnourished, and on the brink of death no less- definitely doesn't help with his reaction at all.
Don't get me wrong! All of them react pretty negatively to the situation, and many of them have very strong reactions- Jason in particular just has the worst and strongest one. :]
The moment he sees you, he's immediately reminded of his death. The urge to comfort you is strong, but he just doesn't know what to do- and so he ends up not doing anything until you're in the hospital. Which, leading up to that point, he's checking your pulse as often as he can.
He knows what it's like to be hopeless, and feel that helpless- but to know that you experienced that? To know that you almost died like he did? It ruins him. It fucks him up more than anything else.
From the way you looked at the Batfam- the way you looked at him, and just how utterly relieved you were, despite drowning in your own disbelief- it haunts him. The state they found you in messed him up enough, but all of your questions, and just how you were even trying to reassure yourself that them showing up and saving you was real, fucked him up big time.
Before he knows it, he's hunting down the people who kidnapped you, and wiping out whatever is left of their bloodlines. Not sparing a single person, as they didn't spare you- with their generations leading to your kidnappers being born.
He's making their final moments just as painful as yours would've been. Their agony almost matching his, as he couldn't forget the night they saved you. He refused to. That moment forever engraved into his mind, reminding him of what also was if they were a second too late, and how it made him realize just how much he's fucked up along with everyone else.
While Jason can't exactly just waltz into the Hospital to visit you, since he is still considered dead and everything, he sneaks into your room instead. Trying to give what comfort he can in his own silent, but close way. Holding your hand with a gentleness even foreign to himself, and saying how he's sorry and that he'll make it up to you. Promising every night that he'll make those that made you suffer pay with their lives, and then some. Saying how he won't leave your side ever again, only to be gone by the morning.
He brings what he can as well. Even if it isn't as showy or extravagant as any of the things that Bruce, Damian, Dick and so on are getting you, or as pretty and lively as the flowers that are placed by your bedside. It's just his own little way of trying to make it up to you.
The small, little gifts he gives you are indeed little, and he doesn't give much since he doesn't think that your forgiveness or love can be bought. But he still tries to give something. So he'll give things that can be as little as hair ties or bracelets, to earrings (that totally aren't matching) and a little music box that reminded him of the melodies you've made thus far. It's all just another way of saying that he cares about you, and not only wants to build your relationship but be connected to you somehow.
The earrings, even if you don't wear them but just have them, make him feel closer to you then he can. He hopes that in some little way, that whenever you wind and let that music box play its tune, that you are reminded of him or think of him in some way. That when you wear or even look at the few ties and bracelets he's given you, he comes to mind in some small way, and manages to bring the smallest of smiles on your face.
Jason doesn't yearn to be remembered or seen fondly, but he would like to and deeply appreciate it. Since when he looks at his earnings, he's reminded of you, and the pair he managed to give you. Leaving him unable to fight back the smile that grows on his face.
For the most part, he just generally tries to be more present, hardly leaving you alone unless he has to, and spending every moment he can by your side. Moments that begin to last longer once he finishes his buisness with your kidnappers, and their families. He doesn't push too hard or is super in your face and constantly invading your personal space. He just exists in your presence, and as long as you're around he's got no complaints.
Though he does get extremely protective and possessive. Especially if your sleeping or something, and someone walks in. God have mercy if they need to wake you up, and dare to try without saying anything to Jason first.
Which- all of this boils down to you getting scary dog privileges every night, which turns into an almost 24/7 type of deal when you get discharged from the hospital.
---
Sorry if this is a little all over the place. I wrote it all in one go for the most part and haven't really looked it over, so there's probably some mistakes I didn't catch and missed 😅
Still, I hope that's alright, and as you can see- i really enjoy this idea :]
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lycheeloving · 3 months
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wanted to write something for long covid awareness day, but it doesn't mention it by name (it's barely mentioned at all, tbh) so you can imagine it to be something else, I guess. continuation of this, kind of.
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myerssimp21 · 2 months
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Tim Drake, Aphrodisiac Victim (YAN!Pt.1)
Romantic!Yandere!Batfam x fem reader. Part 1 Part 2, Part 3
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It’s easy for him to excuse it, easy for Tim Drake to pretend like he hadn’t intentionally fumbled the latest conflict with Poison Ivy. He could have done more to stop her, but when he discovered her plan and spent days pouring over the ingredients in her new concoction, the holistic quality of her potion calmed his nerves and quieted the anxious parts of him that screamed he would get caught. Ivy was known for several atrocities in Gotham, but she didn’t usually act as aggressively as Scarecrow or Joker with her toxins.
So when Tim Drake definitively concluded her newest potion wouldn’t have any adverse health effects, he was slower than he should have been when she whipped out the perfume bottle and sprayed it at him.
He’d been expecting this; what he hadn’t expected was Bruce yanking him backwards in an attempt to save him from the mist. The Batclaw shot out, aiming for the bottle in her hands but failing to retrieve it halfway through the delivery, the glass shattering on the ground and splashing all over the Bat and Tim Drake.
There had been dizzying action, and then only silence for a moment. Ivy had a shit-eating smile creeping onto her face as she began backing away, keeping her eyes on the two men trying to catch their breath.
“Gentlemen, it looks like you have the night off,” she said with a giggle as she continued to retreat, eyeing her escape route, “maybe make plans?”
“Pamela,” The Bat growls in a dark tone, his anger barely contained over how their mission had gone so wrong, “Give me the antidote.”
She turns to run away and he lunges forward to grab her before his knees buckle under him and he collapses to the ground, catching his balance and hearing her scurry off.
“Batman,” Tim says, feeling the weight of consequences of his actions as he feels his crotch begin tingling, “she doesn’t have one. I checked.”
The silence is palpable as Bruce evens out his breathing and pushes off the ground, using a nearby wall to steady himself, “We need to get to the Batmobile before it sets in.”
Tim shudders as Bruce places a giant hand on his shoulder, concerned both at how hard the big man is taking the dose and at how good the physical contact feels in this state. He hopes Bruce doesn’t feel pleasure at the slightest touch like he does; he’s frustrated since it was supposed to be just him.
Tim Drake was supposed to receive an accidental dose of Ivy’s new aphrodisiac. Tim Drake was supposed to stop by their darling’s apartment afterwards to relieve the strain in his crotch and the desire in his heart. It was supposed to be the best porno he’d ever see; getting the best angles for the cameras discreetly set up at her place earlier that month to rewatch later.
He knew Bruce was smart and Tim only hoped to earn forgiveness for this by making the best home film with you. He also knew Dick, Jason, and Damian would be grouchy he’d gotten to you first and it was entirely possible he’d get just decimated by your lack of interest altogether. Even though you and Tim had become close over the past couple semesters, he could tell you were reserved at times, just anxious or uneasy enough to pull away before anything with lasting complications happened.
The Batmobile had an autopilot feature which Bruce immediately enacted, setting a course for the Batcave. Wordlessly, Tim adds their darling’s apartment complex in as a stop, trying to not get shaky at the thought of getting laid in this state. It’s so easy to add it; all he has to do is press it from the list of saved priority locations in the portal.
“I had my suspicions,” Batman murmurs as he closes his eyes and lays against the headrest, trying to control the sensations in his body, “you wouldn’t have gotten sprayed at that range unless you wanted to.”
Tim says it before he can think in misplaced irritation, “Then why’d you get in the way?”
It’s embarrassing the moment he says it and Bruce says nothing in response, letting the silence sour in the air to make a point.
“What are you going to do?” Tim asks him, too aware of the growing urge to sink his dick into a warm, wet hole. The urge is going to be hard to wrangle enough to talk to her, let alone look normal enough to seem like a regular hook-up.
“I’ll manage,” is all Bruce says, and Tim hopes that means he’ll call Catwoman as soon as he leaves; he suddenly doesn’t like the idea of everyone tuning in at once to the live camera feeds as he tries his hand at seducing you. It feels like lots of pressure, and while Tim Drake is usually phenomenal at working under pressure, he doesn’t want to get rejected in 4k.
Bruce grips the steering wheel tight when the tingles begin in his crotch, trying to distract himself, “I have a change of clothes under your seat. Change before we get to her place.”
~
Bruce makes the call while he can, letting Damian know he and Tim were not going to be able to finish their patrol shift. Damian sounds unimpressed when he asks why and Bruce doesn’t answer him, hanging up.
Bruce goes to voicemail when he calls Jason, and his jaw clenches in irritation. He knows Jason holds more resentment towards him and might murder some criminals if made to do patrol on a night he’s supposed to have off, but Bruce can’t let Damian do patrol alone in the big city yet. He’s also a little concerned that Jason might murder Tim if he hears him with you, so getting him out on patrol is better for everyone.
After calling Jason two more times, Bruce gives up and calls Damian back, telling him he’d send Grayson over. Ever efficient, Damian is already dressed as Robin on the Batmobile’s call screen, his eyes narrowing in his domino mask.
"Father, your demeanor suggests trouble. What went wrong with Drake during the patrol?"
"It's nothing, Damian. Just a minor setback. We handled it."
"Minor setbacks don't usually disrupt patrol schedules. What are you hiding, Father?"
"I'll be back tomorrow morning," Bruce says, ignoring Damian's rude interrogation, "Make sure to stop by the GCPD to follow up with Jack Ryder on-" Bruce's voice falters as he struggles to remember what the story is; his crotch begins throbbing uncomfortably and he feels like the heat is spreading up his torso with each beat of his heart.
"On those cryptic messages left in the GCPD mailbox," Tim finishes for Bruce, leaning in to fit in the camera lens so Damian can see him too. Damian rolls his eyes.
"Your knack for evasion is quite the talent, Father. Maybe it's worth pondering why you choose partners if transparency isn't part of the deal."
With this scathingly cold delivery, Damian ends the call on a sour note. Tim would check with Bruce but their darling lives on the street they just turned down and his heartbeat has begun violently thudding in his chest and in his dick.
"Tim," Batman says firmly before Tim leaves the Batmobile, "stay in control. Scaring her off is not an option."
Tim's trying to not be sensitive about it because after all, it makes sense; if he comes off too strong and scares her, not only is he fucked immediately with Ivy's aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, but he will complicate things for the whole Wayne family. The other part of him, the part being drugged by Ivy's potion wants to whine in protest. How is he supposed to exercise control!? He'd never force himself on her but he doesn't doubt he might pass out if he doesn't find relief soon. As he exits the Batmobile with her apartment building in front of him, he just prays Jason is asleep and doesn't cockblock him.
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You weren’t asleep yet. At 10 PM, you were drawing in bed, pausing at different parts in the pornographic video you were watching to practice drawing bodies. You couldn’t deny this way of practicing wasn’t tempting you to turn the lights off and rub one out with one of your vibrators though. They were recently charged, after all.
Not wanting to stop drawing quite yet but wanting the desire to build, you turn up the volume of the tv and make an effort to not pause as much. It felt good to feel a building arousal in your body and know you could use your toy as many times as you liked. It had already been about twenty minutes of you rotating out on your favorite pornography and hentai tags, working your brain up to arousal under the guise of practicing art. It honestly didn’t take much to get you feeling hot; growing sexual tension in your personal life made it easy to tap into. Maybe it was just that it never left your mind in the first place, and your mind wandered as your fingers snuck under the waistband of your shorts.
You thought of the recent weird vibes between you and Tim, the boy in your humanities course you sat near who was also in your social work course. You’d exchanged numbers early in the semester and at this point you’d met up for study sessions more than once. He’d always been a little flirtatious but you thought he was joking until he had leaned in the other day, hand finding purchase on your thigh as he murmured, “you drive me crazy, you know that?”
It was so generic you would have chuckled or rolled your eyes but the way he said it made goosebumps raise on your skin instead. His eyes were locked on yours and the sober intensity in them was not something you had prepared for, leaning away from him in sudden awkwardness even when you felt your cheeks burning.
Still, the thought of how he looked at you made you shudder when your finger brushed against your clit and your mind raced on.
Then there was your next-door neighbor, Jason. Tall and broad-shouldered, there's a casual confidence in the way he moves. His piercing blue eyes seem to twinkle with amusement whenever you shyly chat with him, like he's in on some secret joke. The black cat always at his heels chirps happily on his little patio table when you two chat, purring loudly and head-butting Jason at any given opportunity. Always, Jason makes his appearance shirtless, his eyes laughing louder at you every time you feel your face flush when he says something questionably flirtatious towards you. It's one thing to playfully flirt, but to do so while ripped and shirtless? How was your ability to articulate yourself around him supposed to have a chance?
You try not to look and act unflustered every time, but once your eyes lingered and you noticed scar tissue all over his torso, unable to tear yourself away from the sight. You'd apologized when he jokingly said you'd better take a picture, since you didn't want to seem rude checking out his scars and felt silly for getting caught staring.
"They come with a price, always," Jason remarked cryptically, suddenly making intense eye contact.
"Your scars?" You asked, afraid to say the wrong thing due to your social anxieties but leaning towards him from your bannister.
"No, my pictures" he replied with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously while Alfred the cat chirped at his ankles again. Jason leaned across his bannister too, "But I've always believed in getting to know my neighbors. I think you and I could take that to a whole new level, don't you?"
"I-I think... that could be...nice," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Getting to know you better, I mean." You had looked away while trying to choke out these words, gathering your courage before meeting his gaze again. "I'm curious about you.. So maybe we could... explore each other sometime."
His eyes widened, his expression betraying a hint of genuine disbelief. A faint blush quickly dusted his cheeks, mirroring the warmth you felt spreading through you at his suggestion.
"Wow," he said, his voice laced with surprise and breathier than normal, "I wasn't expecting that, but... I like where you're going with this." The tone of admiration had given you chills at the time, praise kink activating at the new way he was regarding you. "I’m curious about you too, you know. Let's see just how close we can really get."
His reaction left you feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you couldn't help but smile at his response. You hadn't seen him since then, a couple days ago, and you hoped your conversation would amount to something delicious one day if it was meant to be.
As you reminisced about Tim's intense words and Jason's forward suggestions, your fingers gravitated towards your clit, applying firm pressure as they glided up and down your labia before slowly easing into your pussy. You opted for two fingers, relishing the sensation of fullness they provided compared to just one. They pressed deeply inside you, and you squeezed around them exploratively, reveling in the feeling.
After relishing the fullness of your fingers, you pumped them a few times, a low moan escaping your lips at the intense sensation. Your eyes scrunched shut tightly as you imagined Tim's hand from the other day—how it had come to rest on your thigh, the way it had firmly gripped at you, igniting a desire to jump at the touch.
You visualized him inching closer to the point of no return, sliding his hand into your underwear, and letting his fingers work their magic right there as you both sat with your homework in front of you. Just moments ago, you would have been innocently reviewing new terms together, but then the thought of his touch would be obscenely irresistible. You pictured yourself moving your hips, eagerly responding to his touch and allowing yourself to make all the noises you had always been too nervous to make with others. You imagined he'd get antsy to fuck you after hearing the squelching of your pussy on his fingers. In your mind's eye, he would just barely find the self-control to pull his cock out from his pants before burying his length desperately as far deep as it could go in you.
As you finally reached for the vibrators kept next to the bed, the abrupt sound of knocking at the door shattered your session. Startled, you jumped up, hastily yanking your shorts back up and rushing to wash your hands.
With no peephole on your apartment door, you felt a twinge of unease as you hurried to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the sight of Tim standing there caught you off guard.
"Hey... uh, sorry to just show up unannounced like this," Tim begins, his voice slightly breathless. "I, uh, I needed to talk to you about something important."
He shifts uncomfortably, trying to suppress the nervous energy coursing through him. "I know it's kind of out of the blue, but... can I come in? It won't take long, I promise."
Tim's words come out rushed, his cheeks flushed with a mix of urgency and embarrassment, as he struggles to maintain his composure despite the powerful effects of the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.
Without hesitating, you step aside, allowing Tim to enter. His presence saturates the room, bringing with it an air of tension and anticipation.
"Tim, what's going on? Are you okay?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern and uncertainty as you closed and locked the door behind him.
His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your heart beat just a little faster, unsure of what he was going to tell you.
"I couldn't stop thinking about what I said the other day," Tim began, his words coming out in a rush. "About how you drive me crazy. I... I don't know how to explain it but I felt like I had to come see you."
His confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion and unspoken arousal.
As he stood before you, his usually composed demeanor was replaced by an air of dishevelment. His hair was messier, and his clothes weren't neat like usual. There was a manic energy in his expression, a hint of desperation that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Tim, you seem... different tonight," you remarked cautiously, noting the wild look in his eyes.
"I couldn't wait any longer," he confessed, his voice emotional, "I needed to see you. I needed to be with you tonight more than anything."
The intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing, a sense of unease creeping over you as you began to comprehend the depth of his interest. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of something akin to surrender. You longed for him to desire you so intensely that he couldn't wait for a more appropriate time, practically begging you to spend a night with him like a lost puppy.
As Tim stood before you, his agitation evident in every movement, you couldn't ignore the tension in the air. Your gaze inadvertently dropped to the now noticeable bulge in his pants and you're captivated by it, unwilling to look away. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the undeniable evidence of his desire.
"Can you... touch me?" Tim's voice trembled with urgency as he made the request, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the underlying intensity. "You can set the pace, do anything you want, just... please, do something," he added, his words carrying a fervent plea while leaving the decision entirely in your hands.
The tension was thick but you couldn't say you were really surprised at this admission of interest. Regarding the boy in front of you, you pondered the consequences this could lead to. As far as you knew, Tim wasn't a frat boy or someone who could make your life annoying with spreading rumors about the type of girl you were at school. He'd only ever been considerate, kind, and genuine. No girlfriend that you knew of, and he'd definitely be the kind of guy who gushed about his partner if he had one, so you wouldn't be any sort of homewrecker. He always helped you with your homework, to a point where you barely needed to do anything but the minimum whenever he got involved in any of your projects or assignments. This in mind, you decided he deserved a reward.
Leaning in towards him, you place your hands against his cheeks to cup his face. His eyes are wide, the pupils dilated. You thought you heard somewhere that meant someone was in love. Staring into those blown pupils with a mixture of curiosity and arousal, you drew closer.
"Can I kiss you?" You whisper and he nods before you can even get the question out. You kiss him, noticing he seems to freeze up for a moment before kissing you back, pressing against your mouth harder. His tongue swipes against you, but before you let yourselves go any further, you pull away.
"Before things escalate, can we agree to keep it casual, keep us casual? I like what we have."
He seems so antsy, almost breathless, "Absolutely, yeah. I'm all in. No pressure."
Doubting his sincerity since he seems so gone off of whatever is happening to him, you hesitate, "Tim, I'm serious. I don't want you to agree just because of the moment or you're high."
You're staring into those dilated eyes of his in the beat of silence that follows, hoping he's really listening to you.
He looks back into your eyes, the frenzied look a little more under control. "I hear you, I'm on the same page. Friends-with-benefits, I'd love that." Notably, he doesn't deny the speculation of being high.
Nodding at the more clear communication, you went back in for the kiss, now letting his tongue enter and explore your mouth. After getting more clarity from him, you feel less tense and relax into his kiss, feeling his hand come up to touch at your hair as he takes more control of it.
Dropping to your knees when the kiss breathlessly ends, you kiss at his clothed bulge, pawing at it with a hand. Your eyes are fixated on the stricken Tim Drake above you, and he watches in awe as you deeply inhale. You can smell him through his pants and nuzzle your cheek against the bump in them.
Slowly pulling at the drawstring of his sweatpants, your fingers hook on the band and you pull them down till they're bunched at his ankles, hardly taking a breather from your kisses.
"Oh, god," he moans in a strangled voice, "You're so pretty down there."
His praise makes your cheeks begin to burn and your movements get a little more self-conscious, feeling marveled at. Moving your mouth against his bulge in his boxers, you find where the tip should be and roughly suck at it through his underwear. His body shudders, one of his hands fingering through your hair and grabbing it firmly and he hisses, "Play nice."
Feeling good about this now, you moan into his bulge at the choked tone you caused him, pulling his boxers down and kissing on his penis directly now. Lifting it, you craned underneath and kissed at his balls, licking a long strip up from them to the tip and swirling your tongue around his hole at the top. A loud moan tore through Tim and you felt him push his pelvis towards you more, the tip of his penis in your mouth beginning to inch further.
Graciously, you accept his bid, widening your mouth to swallow him completely when he pushes in. He's not terribly big but it's still a little hard to fit him in, the longer length causing it to bump into the back of your throat. He doesn't taste bad considering your previous experiences with oral. It was musty and damp like he'd just worked out, but the faint scent of soap and the neat pubes your nose was buried in told you his hygiene wasn't terrible.
Swirling your tongue with the movement, you experimentally go down on him to gauge his reaction. He moans loudly again and the sound is beautiful to you, doing it again in the hopes he moans nicely again. He does and you fixate your gaze up at him as you take his cock deeply again and his face betrayed how flustered he was, with his cheeks flushed and the look of a madman about him.
He's watching you like he adores you and when you make eye contact, his hips buck into your mouth and he whines, "I knew you'd be gorgeous swallowing my cock, you're taking it so well."
You look up at him in curiosity, so he thought about you like that? He'd pictured this?
"Fuck, I knew it. I knew you'd look beautiful on your knees."
You sense his thighs trembling and your hands come up to press against them, mouth obediently swallowing his cock.
"Oh," he chokes and roughly thrusts deeply, "I'm cumming- it's coming, swallow it all!"
He looks back down at you and then it comes as he moans loudly and crouches to push his cock as far as it will go down your throat, the overwhelming cumshot from the throbbing penis in between your lips threatening to spill out of your mouth. You always hated swallowing cum, and the hot orgasm spurting into your mouth is no exception. You feel your gag reflex threatening to make this night nightmarish but then it ebbs away as you focus on the fact the flow of cum is slowing down, on the fact this particular sensation will go away soon.
You can't lie he sounds and looks delicious otherwise, your eyes focusing on his flustered face that looks almost entirely delirious now. He's sweaty but the handsome face almost glows with liveliness, cheeks flushed and jawline trembling with emotion.
Gently, you slide his penis out of your mouth, sucking any remaining cum or spit off until you get to the tip, lightly swirling your tongue against his hole. When you finally pop off, his hand cups your cheek and he promptly drops to his knees, passionately grabbing your face and kissing you. His tongue wriggles into your mouth and you're surprised he's tongue-kissing you with the flavor of his cum fresh in your mouth still. One of his hands hungrily comes up to knead at your tit and you whimper as he harshly pinches on the end of it. Then he's pulled away from the kiss but his body is beginning to overwhelm you, crawling on top of you as you fall back onto your butt with your legs in front.
"Let me have you," he pleads, and you feel his penis is hard again and prodding against your thigh, "Please let me have you right now."
You wouldn't have preferred doing it mere feet away from your front door, especially since the crack under the door was a couple centimeters wide and anyone in the hall could probably hear you without effort, but the wild look in his eyes and the famished way he pulled at both your tits now made you want to indulge in such an animalistic fucking. Something was hot about the desperate way he looked, something enticing about the frenzied approach. You'd never seen this side of him, and the consequences of indulging with him in such a degrading way was far from your mind when his head dipped down and he tugged at the hem of your shirt. Helping him take off your shirt by lifting your arms, he wasted no time in shoving his face in your cleavage, nipping at the top of your breasts with his teeth.
Yelping at the surprising and slightly painful sensation, your hands come up to grip at his hair and he lays large wet kisses against your breasts, sucking at the skin there. You know he's gunning for hickeys and you whimper when he alternates between open-mouthed kisses and biting, arching and pressing your breasts further towards him.
His mouth pops off of them and he leans in, head over your shoulder as he fidgets with your bra clasp behind you. You turn your head as he fiddles with it and bury your face into his neck, inhaling deeply before kissing at it. He smells faintly of laundry detergent, but there's sweat and a slightly sweeter smell lingering on him, the sweeter smell hanging heavily in your nostrils and seemingly dripping at the back of your throat. It makes your head buzz a little and you pull away in a daze when he fails to unclasp your bra, your tits popping out of the thing when he pulls it down in frustration.
"What cologne do you wear?" You ask without really wanting to know right now, feeling your head spin after smelling at his neck.
"I'm not," he gasps, squeezing and pinching at your nipples freely now, and you throw your head back with a moan when he attaches at them with his mouth. He uses his tongue and teeth to alternate between nibbling and flicking at them with his tongue, paying attention to each side as he can. His penis is excitedly bumping against your thigh in his boxers and you kick your shorts off, groping at his bulge.
"Please," he says with need when he takes a break from your tits, and his hand now fumbles at his boxers. You see him pull his cock out from the hole in them and understand what he wants when he slides your panties aside, not bothering to remove them. His dick prods at you and his hips slowly move around, trying to find your entrance. Aroused and excited to feel him enter, you reach down to guide him in.
Then, you remember.
Groaning in annoyance, you gently begin pushing him off of you, "Tim, we have to use a condom. They're in my room."
He finally pulls off your tits with enough of your pushing, and he looks at you like he doesn't understand, a rabid look glinting in his eyes.
You smile, trying to make the best of it, "C'mon, it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed anyways."
Standing and realizing you feel uncharacteristically light-headed, you unsteadily make your way to your bedroom, feeling him grip at your hips while he follows. You apologize for the pornography still loudly streaming from your TV as you make your way to your dresser to get a condom, and his eyes quickly become glued to the visual stimulation, mouth opened slightly as he stared.
"Keep it on," he instructs when he notices you reach for the TV remote, "Keep it on and get over here."
You approach the bed where he sits on the end, and he opens the wrapper and pulls his boxers down to reveal his penis, hastily rolling the condom onto his length. The sensation of doing so seems to be much more stimulating to him than you thought it would, and he moans and whimpers as he pulls it all the way down. Once it's on, he grabs forward at your waist and yanks you down onto him, your breasts smashing against his face as you fall onto him. He's strong and you're letting him pull you around, straddling his lap and looking down at the needy man.
"Here," you say, reaching past him to grab your pillow and tuck it under his head, "There you go."
You smile down at him sweetly and he smiles back, kneading at your ass as you sit atop him. Leaning down to kiss him, you use a hand to reach down and guide his penis against your entry, pulling it to rub it up and down against you. His tip collects your aroused wetness and the movement become slippery as it slides with your lubrication. Just when you can tell he's getting antsy and about to whine, you guide it until you feel it at the tip of your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto it and his grip on your ass tightens until it's almost painful.
"Oh," He moans, deeply affected. His hips are still as you let him slowly penetrate you until you're full with him and there's no more room in you to sink down further, "Oh, god, you feel so good."
"How do I feel?" You ask in curiosity, looking at him as he seems dazed with the sensation of your pussy. A sudden thrust upwards into you makes you yelp, his hard penis harshly bumping against your cervix. His eyes are closed as he collects his words.
"You're so warm and fluttering around me," he says, and it's true. You feel yourself squeezing at him at the sight of him, his relief evident, "I've never felt so good; it's like you were meant to have me buried in you."
His words are spoken with conviction, and you're processing it all when he thrusts again. It still hurts, but less now. Your head is spinning, but you catch onto his new rhythm and begin lifting your hips up, forcefully pushing them down on him in time with his thrusts.
Pained but aroused moans spilling from your lips in time with each thrust, you realize your tits are bouncing around in his face with your fucking, swinging around wildly. His grip on your hips tightens impossibly and you see his biceps flex madly when his muscles take over, overriding your own rhythm and violently making you meet his thrusts. The moans from his own mouth gets louder until they're louder than yours, his pace quickening at the sight of your expression above him. You look fucked out and in pain and he relishes in it, knowing the sound of skin slapping against skin is his own doing. He grits his teeth and pulls you all the way down on his length like you were when you got on top at first, shooting his orgasm into the condom but envisioning it shooting straight into your womb.
You hiss in some pain at this large and painful thrust, moaning at the distant feeling of his dick twitching in you. The base of his cock is nestled at your entrance and you feel the entire length of it throbbing in your hot pussy as he takes his time to finish.
"You haven't cum," he says through heavy breaths as he comes down and you know he isn't asking but stating his observation.
"It's still really hot," you admit, "I like how it feels when you cum in me."
Staring up at you, he brings his hands up to your ass again and lifts his hips to inch the both of you towards the head of the bed, reaching towards the bedside dresser and grabbing one of your vibrators, handing it to you. You're still impaled on him and gasp at the sensation of him jerking you forward with him on his dick. Now kneading rhythmically at your tits, he pulls at them like he was milking you, "Cum on my cock."
Wide-eyed, you realize he's perceptive and has noticed your vibrators when you came in.
His gaze is drinking you in, eyes less wild as he stares. When you hesitate, he takes the vibrator from your fingers and turns it on, placing it against your clit as you sit on him. You're impressed he knows where the clit is and you jump at the sensation of the vibrator bumping against it, feeling him thrust up with an overstimulated whimper when you jump.
"Tim," you gasp, "doesn't that hurt?"
"Don't worry about it," he hisses through gritted teeth, "I need to feel you cum on my cock."
So you focus on finding your orgasm, hyperaware of the hard rod resting in your secret place, tracing the sex toy along places near your clitoris and moaning in pleasure as you play with yourself. He whimpers every time you squeeze on him and you squeeze on him any time you find pleasure near your clit. His hands return to milking your tits and you remember that his condom is full of his cum, sloshing around deep inside you and pressing against your cervix. The fear of the condom breaking suddenly rushes you to your first orgasm and you gasp his name, feeling him twitch deep inside you as you repeat his name helplessly in your climax. He strains upwards and his lips catch a nipple, sucking harshly as you begin to come down.
"Keep it there," he growls when you begin to pull your vibrator away, "We're not going anywhere until you cum again."
"Tim," you whimper, "I can't."
"I know you can," he says, thrusting upwards experimentally. The movement makes the vibrator bump against your clit and you squeeze down on him at your own overstimulation, making him groan. He slowly and determinedly begins thrusting into you again, small tears forming in his eyes at the overstimuation.
His stubborn insistence on chasing your second high even though you're both beyond the edge only makes you more aroused and you rut against him. He's not thrusting fully, but more so bumping against your cervix in small movements and you're fraught with a visual of the full condom sloshing around. You wonder if he will cum again into it, if it will become so full with his semen it bursts inside you. This thought along with his steady breast kneading causes the knot to quickly build up in your cunt until it comes undone again, and your second orgasm hits in a fray of overstimulation and whimpering.
"There you go," he coos, legs underneath you twitching at your pulsing movements, "There you go, you did so well. You did so good for me, baby...you were meant for it."
You shudder at the sweet tone, being pulled down for a long kiss. His chest is sweaty, the space in between the bottom of your thighs and the tops of his is slick, and you're gasping against his neck when he holds you. The two of you spend a while in that embrace, regaining your breaths and recovering from the intense session. Your head rests against his collarbone until you stir, slowly lifting yourself off him and breathing through the feeling of his cock sliding out of you. When it's fully out, you collapse next to him on the bed, bringing a leg up to wrap around his as you both take a breather.
You know you told him it was no commitment, no feelings, no drama, but you can't deny yourself a cuddle session after sex regardless. He doesn't speak, but the silence is comfortable as you rest your head against the crook of his chest and side. The atmosphere in the room shifts subtly as the distant sounds of the television fade into the background, replaced by the incessant chirping of Tim's phone.
You can't help but notice the growing urgency in Tim's demeanor as he glances at his device, a furrow forming on his brow. Despite your reluctance, he rises from the bed, his movements hesitant yet determined.
Sitting up despite your whines of protest, Tim looks at his device in concern and reluctance, "I have to take this."
Your initial protest dies on your lips as you watch him leave the room, a knot of unease forming in the pit of your stomach. What could possibly be so pressing at this hour? The uncertainty gnaws at you, feeding into the growing sense of unease.
As you strain to make out the muffled voices from the other room, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. The once familiar sounds of Tim's voice now carry an edge of tension, each word laced with frustration and urgency. It's a stark contrast to the comfortable silence you shared moments ago.
Your heart sinks further as Tim returns, his expression weighed down by an unspoken burden. The air between you feels heavy with anticipation, as if bracing for the inevitable.
"What's wrong?" you venture cautiously, already dreading the answer.
Tim's gaze flickers with a mixture of regret and resignation as he meets your eyes, his voice heavy with apology, "I'm really sorry, but something came up. I have to go."
Your mind races, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in the atmosphere. What could possibly be so urgent? Despite your efforts to remain composed, a wave of insecurity washes over you. Did this mean you weren't important enough to prioritize?
"...Really?" you finally utter, your voice trembling slightly.
"Yes," he reluctantly confirms, a guilty expression on his face, "I'm very sorry, but I need to attend to this."
Wanting to protest but knowing it would be more frustration than it was worth, you nodded slowly at the news, "...Okay."
He starts for the door, ""I wish I could stay, but I really need to go. I'll make this up to you, I swear."
As Tim heads towards the front of your apartment to gather his belongings and dress, you follow behind, hastily pulling on your shirt as you move. Despite the turmoil swirling within, you're determined to maintain a façade of composure, refusing to let the tears welling up inside spill over. The uncertainty gnaws at you as you watch him prepare to leave, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. You desperately cling to the hope that something truly urgent has come up, unable to bear the thought of him simply walking away after the intimacy you shared. You wonder if you'll be able to face him at school after this, but the thought is so overwhelming to you that you just try to focus on the present moment.
You swallow hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as you bid him farewell, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions. As the door clicks shut behind him, you're left standing alone in the hallway, grappling with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.
After a long moment, you decide that freshening up will probably help you feel better and you turn on heel to head towards the bathroom, the goal of brushing your teeth and washing your face the only thing you're ready to focus on in your sudden loneliness.
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Part 2, Part 3
@dakota-rain666 @tyga-stripes @obsessedwithromance
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roxineedstosleep · 4 months
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Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Hi there!!!
First of all: Thank you sweetie!
It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!
But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.
So… here goes!
(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)
Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.
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Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.
It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.
Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.
Having multiple siblings was new.
Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.
It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.
Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.
But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.
You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!
New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.
After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.
Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.
What to do?
Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.
What does that entail?
It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.
Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.
That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.
(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).
Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.
Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.
Do you see any privacy in this?
No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.
The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.
As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.
So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?
No kidding, how?
And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.
It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!
What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!
You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?
I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.
And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.
Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.
And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.
But that's not the point.
The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.
You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.
Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.
It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.
The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.
I insist, you did not hide anything.
But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.
First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.
Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.
Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.
Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.
NO matter.
At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.
Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.
Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.
Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.
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klemen-tine · 3 months
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Blowing Raspberries
Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic
@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.
Part 2
TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect
Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot. 
Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting. 
“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs. 
“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it. 
“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?” 
“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and– 
“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.” 
“Dami!” 
“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.” 
Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing. 
Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair. 
“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life. 
Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about. 
“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”
Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham. 
Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne. 
They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads. 
“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.” 
“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.” 
“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book. 
“It's Elizabeth Bennett.” 
“Jay, I swear to God.” 
“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.” 
“Little wing–” 
“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.” 
“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words. 
“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs. 
He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –
“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?” 
“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–” 
“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!” 
– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched  Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present. 
“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it. 
Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee. 
“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. 
He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle. 
Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’ 
Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason. 
“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?” 
Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass. 
“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze. 
Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission. 
Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.
The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home. 
Y/N quickly shot those down.
Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something. 
Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here. 
‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine. 
“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight. 
When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over. 
Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child. 
Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance. 
Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing. 
However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away. 
Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them. 
“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why. 
Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here. 
++++
“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder. 
“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.” 
The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up. 
Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others. 
He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred. 
They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home? 
Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence. 
There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.
Every phone call, every text message going unanswered. 
‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking. 
‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea. 
“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.” 
Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector. 
“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?” 
In the L/N Manor 
Y/N walked  the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere. 
When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm. 
Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it. 
Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham. 
Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him. 
Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.
Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window. 
“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl. 
“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?” 
‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face. 
“Did F/N do this?” 
“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?” 
“You’re rooms this way.”
“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice. 
“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!” 
“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory. 
“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.” 
Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.” 
“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go. 
“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip. 
“Guys, you’re scaring me.” 
“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move. 
Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing. 
“Wa-”
“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor. 
++++
Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages. 
Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand. 
“Oh good, you’re awake.” 
“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably. 
“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–” 
“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands. 
“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.” 
“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.” 
Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say. 
“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–” 
“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile. 
Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. 
Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. 
“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different. 
“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his. 
“I-I should change first–” 
“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.” 
“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something. 
The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted. 
“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty. 
Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”
“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air. 
Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about. 
“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family. 
They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like. 
Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick. 
Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.” 
“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman. 
“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers. 
“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.” 
“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper. 
Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say. 
Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries
Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly. 
“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-” 
“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance. 
“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–” 
“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family. 
Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly. 
“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.” 
“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”
“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.” 
Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.” 
“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.” 
“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in. 
“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.” 
“Language.” 
“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company. 
“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!”  Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"
Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.” 
He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper. 
“Just… just please don’t do that again.” 
“It won’t happen again. I promise.” 
______________________________________________________________
Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months
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this is prolly the only fem! reader i’m ever writing with batfam in this blog. enjoy.
(implicit) yandere batfam x dommy mommy! reader
— in which these men realize you were far more than just an assistant
Galas were fun at times. But when forced to attend such repetitive events in addition to their vigilante work — well it was safe to say, it was not boding well for their sanity.
You worked as a general assistant for the BatFamily. As Alfred’s daughter, you endeavored to ease your father and his employers’s lives. You were a sweetheart. An absolute angel. The loveliest lady to ever exist.
Until you were pushed past the brink of your limits, stress wise, of course.
The whole Jason coming back from the dead and Bruce being dead took a massive blow to your sleep schedule. The boys took it as an opportunity to blur the lines between work and personal life. Slowly inserting themselves into your day to day outside of what you tirelessly scheduled for them.
So when a villain managed to break into the Batcave while you were there all on your lonesome (took a while for you to schedule every single one of them so that they’d be too busy to bother you), you didn’t take it all too kindly.
By the time the boys got back home, they were only privy to the following things
(1) You were a lot stronger than what you appeared to be. If the footage of you absolutely decimating the man wasn’t already a sure sign there was also the fact that you managed to somehow replicate a lot of the moves the boys would learn during training. Must have been something Alfred drilled into you as extra measure.
(2) You were a lot more menacing and sadistic when stressed.
The intruder looked at you with pleading eyes. His face black and blue. Could you blame yourself? You only had one night of peace and this man ruined it.
You sighed. He seemed to be incapacitated enough. Pulling out the chair to the iconic Batcomputer, you took a seat and pondered.
Bruce gave you access to all the alcohol you would need to ease the stresses of life. Might as well you shrugged.
You slowly took off the stockings Dick gifted you a while back. It was a prototype of his merch he said. You knew it was just because he really wanted to see you in fishnets. Then, you used the tip of your toe to raise the intruder’s head to face you.
You paused for a moment, remembering how Tim would often look through the cameras old footage on his free time. His overworking and stalking habits are really be something you work on.
The thought of him seeing the way you act momentarily froze you.
But the alcohol in your system begged to differ.
“Make it up to me, and I’ll let you go.”
Eh, you’ll deal with Tim and Damian scolding you for your unhealthy habits later. And your dad’s sermons on professional behavior.
And whatever mess Jason makes you clean up for the night too.
The boys watched the footage with bated breath and tighter pants at your actions. This was a side they’ve never expected from you.
You poured a drink of your choice down your thighs and legs. The liquid slowly dripped down the skin of your calves and ankles before it reached the tip of your toe.
“What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t give a guest a drink?”
And (3)
They would kill to be that man.
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auroreliis · 9 months
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pls we need more father-daughter moments with bruce because almost all of the yandere batfam fics i’ve read in tumblr always focuses on the bros 😭😭
Platonic Yandere!Bruce Wayne
Summary: Your father protects you from your brothers.
CW: mention of bugs
(not edited or proofread)
Rapid footsteps echoed through the manor. The quiet treading belonged to you and the more audible stomps were from your brother, Dick. Your panting was not missed by the individual chasing you. It was clear that you were getting worn out.
Currently, you were attempting to avoid getting hugged by Dick, who, being as touchy as he is, did not appreciate you steering clear of his squeeze. He had hugged all of his siblings and none of them were as resilient as you, so why did you have to avoid him like this?
You darted past all possible hiding places, since you were sure it would only be a matter of time until he found you, instead opting to run. Your knees bent slightly as you were rounding the corner, in order to be able to push yourself forward with a little more power.
What you couldn't have expected, was that you would run directly into your father's chest. The sudden blockage caused you to stop and look up at him, before remembering that you were on the run. Your head turned and you saw Dick getting closer to you. Out of panic, you hid behind Bruce, who raised a brow at your eldest brother.
Dick came to a halt directly in front of Bruce, who had crossed his arms by now.
"Richard, would you explain the situation to me? I don't quite understand why your sibling is running from you", he said, not mentioning the fact that your nails were digging into his back.
"They've been running from me every time I try to even touch them. I don't want them to distance themselves, they need to be involved more", said Richard, distressed by your sidestepping.
Bruce hummed in thought. "I'll talk to them", his tone signaling that Richard should leave.
Dick huffed before stomping away.
Your father finally turned to you and waited for your explanation.
A sigh escaped your lips and you dropped your head, "Sorry, I just...felt overwhelmed. I'm not really fond of physical contact, but I'll work on it, I promise." You did slightly cringe at your own words, but by now you had learned that complying with their wishes was much more rewarding than disobeying them.
You kept your head low, waiting for his acknowledgement, when a hand landed on your head. You looked up at him, eyebrow raised in confusion, but he just looked at you. He gave your head two light pats before smiling and walking away.
Looking around, you remembered that you had escaped Richard without giving in to his affection.
A radiant smile lit up your face as you scurried off to your room.
~~~~~
"Oh come on! It won't hurt you, will it?", shouted your brother, Jason, as he chased you through the manor, cockroach in hand, ready to be shoved in your face.
He had found it in his helmet and you immediately expressed your repulsion and highlighted the fact that he must be very filthy.
Jason, offended by this comment, decided to make you filthy too, by rubbing a bug on your nose, or at least attempting to. You bolted out of his room at a speed that would put The Flash to shame, but he caught up with you and promised that he wouldn't leave you alone as long as you were clean.
You barely paid attention to your surroundings as you ran through the halls and turned every nearing corner, yet you somehow ended up in the kitchen, where your father was currently conversing with Alfred.
"DAD HELP!", was all you needed to say to have Bruce step between you and Jason, taking on a protective stance.
Jason saw this and stopped, not even having entered the kitchen yet.
Both of them stared at each other silently before Jason turned around and left, presumably deciding that he had better things to do than getting scolded by Bruce.
He muttered a few curse words under his breath and for a moment you feared that you would wake up to him at the foot of your bed, holding a handful of bugs.
"Why was he chasing you?", your father's question brought you back to the situation at hand. "Uh..", you weren't sure how to phrase this without making Jason seem nefarious, "He wanted to show me a bug, but I didn't want to see it, so I ran!"
Bruce inhaled, as if he was about to talk, but you beat him to it, "But! You saved me, thank you!" You hugged him and smiled innocently, praying he stops asking questions.
It seems that he noticed your reluctance to elaborate, so he left it at that and you disappeared within seconds.
This wasn't the first time your father had saved you from your brothers and it most certainly won't be the last.
It was kind of funny how you always seemed to run into him when you were in trouble.
Perhaps it was fate guiding you to your saviour.
It matters not.
All that mattered was that you were thankful for your father's help and understanding, even if his timing was suspiciously accurate.
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toast-on-dandelioms · 5 months
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I have an ask about Spider reader, what if they bonded with a symbiote like Venom ? Exept they bonded to the point its impossible to separate them without killing them both? Venom is still partially separate from reader mostly working and talking with them or taking control when reader cant. Venom knows everthing about them since there i readers head.
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Ok that's a great question!
I think at first Spider would be tired of Venom and try everything to get rid of him before getting used to a companion that doesn't have to be kept in the dark about their vigilante job and also their family problems.
They wouldn't tell anyone, but Alfred would obviously find out and just make sure they're ok before making his plan faster of getting the family to notice them.
If we take in consideration the original timeline that I am following at the moment, Superman would probably be the first person you would tell after months of knowing him and trusting him enough.
But when the Batfam will find out? Well I'm gonna make an example for how they would find out. (And also a small spoiler for the next part)
Ok so Spider is 'working' with Superman sometimes since Gotham's streets are relatively safe and they decide to follow Superman to a mission where they thought they were gonna work alone with Superman again and instead find Batman and Damian waiting for you two.
The mission consists of defeating a rising villain that is making weapons for big villains around the world, and while in the evil lair after defeating the villain, Batman almosts get stabbed by a machine set off by Superman.
But Spider decides to help him and saves him, getting stabbed in the process and making Venom heal them slowly and not immediately since they didn't want Batman to ask questions.
But Spider is still bleeding with a grave wound, which sends everyone in a panic.
So Batman sends Superman with you to the Batcave to get healed while Batman and Damian will make sure the villain will get what he deserves for hurting Spider. (Since Batfam is already a bit yandere for Spider but do not know their real identity)
At the Batcave Spider gets treated a bit after managing to give them some sedatives to make them calm down, which makes Venom come out to defend Spider.
And Alfred decides to make the drastic decision to reveal who Spider is, tired of seeing the Batfam treating them horribly while almost idolising and loving Spider which is the same person.
And Venom insults them with telling everything Spider thinks of them, all the pain, injuries and thoughts they had to make the Batfam feel even worse and Superman more of a yandere than he already was.
So the Batfam becomes even more, not sure the right terminology, yandere for Spider and wants to make it right, promising Venom to make it right and wanting to give Spider all the love they couldn't receive the first years in the Manor.
Venom, sadly, gets manipulated by everyone and promises to not say anything to Spider and helping them a bit since Venom also wants the best for Spider.
The story would continue with Spider getting imprisoned in the Manor, with their powers weak thanks to Venom, making them desperate and also weirded out by the sudden attention of everyone.
And after a while, with everyone manipulating them and suffocating them with their love will eventually lead to Stockholm Syndrome.
And that's the end of it! I will probably reblog it if I find anything wrong that I didn't notice! Thanks for the ask!
For the divider you can go to @saradika-graphics, she does this and takes requests!
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i-cant-sing · 6 months
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Yandere batfam with a sick reader?
Yes but sick reader who is still defiant because hello, they kidnapped you?????
Reader is just glaring at them with tired eyes and a red nose as they once again tuck her under the covers, Dick is highly worried as he frets over you like a mama hen because he did have a heart attack when he caught you standing in front of your open window, where "harsh" gusts of cold air were "attacking your fragile form", so of course, he had to drag you in and wrap his arms around you, rub his cheek against you because he NEEDS to warm you immediately, lest you die of hypothermia.
Yes, Dick overreacts. And yes, Damian will accompany his brother in his delusions, or well, take any chance he gets to scold you.
"You should be in bed, Y/n." Damian said sternly, his eyes narrowed because how dare you worry his favourite brother like this. "Didn't Dick tell you to rest? Are you that incapable of following simple commands?"
You narrowed your eyes back at him, opening your mouth to say something mean but got cut off by your own coughing fit, making Dick rush to help you drink some water, rubbing your back along it. Your throat felt scractchy, and it hurt to speak, but you still wanted to convey your feelings so-
You flipped him off. For a nano second, because Dick immediately grabbed your hand and tucked it back under the covers while Damian's eyes widened at you disrespect, but before he could make any more gremlin noises, but Bruce walked in and Damian knew better than to complain to him about you when youre already sick, cause Bruce wouldve still favoured you.
"Y/n? How do you feel now?" Bruce asked, his voice gentle as he walked closer to where Dick was throwing away your mountain of tissues.
"Im fine. I wanna go out-" "No." "And why not?" "Because youre sick." "You may be Batman, but youre not a doctor!" "I am your father though."
No, youre not. You wanted to say, but knew that would only piss him off and you need to be on his good side if you want Dick and the others to be off your back so that you can escape.
"Whats her temperature?" Bruce asked Dick, who put a thermometer in your mouth quickly. Dick sighed as he told Bruce how you were out of bed and standing in your balcony in the cold just moments ago.
Bruce placed a palm over your forehead, and you tried to move away but there wasnt really any space or energy for you to do that. Bruce's eyes shifted the slightest bit at your burning forehead. "Why do you insist on getting out of bed and sleeping on the floor? Ive already had to pick you up 3 times in the past 2 days."
You pulled out the thermometer and glared at him. "Im fine. Its just sniffles." Bruce's lip quirked a little. You looked absolutely adorable in your delirious state, like an angry kitten.
"I dont think its just sniffles this time. And-" Bruce pulled the thermometer from your hands that you were hiding under the covers. "-dont hide the thermometer from me." His eyes scanned it and the twitch in his brow was enough for Dick to know that the number was too high.
Bruce then eyed the cough syrup next to your side table- its still full.
"Why havent you been taking your medicine?"
"Im not sick-"
"White paint has more color than you do right now. So why havent you been taking the medicine?" Bruce asked and even though he was a little annoyed, he had enough practice dealing with the other kid's rebellious phases to have the patience of a saint.
You shrugged. "How do I know its just cough syrup and not a sedative?" "It is a sedative too. Its supposed to make you sleepy." "Well, I dont wanna sleep and let my guard down in a house full of 5 strange men." You obviously never counted Alfred- hes the only normal one here- except for the part that he wont call the cops for you, but oh well.
Bruce just casted a look to Dick and before you knew it, Dick was pinching your nostrils close and titling your head up while Bruce grabbed the syrup and poured some in your mouth before clamping his hand over it. You struggled to break free, but you were obviously no match to them. Still, tears of frustration pricked your eyes as you looked at them in betrayal and hatred.
"Drink this and dont argue with me, please." Bruce said- well, he genuinely requested at this point.
You didnt have much of a choice other than swallowing it.
With a defiant glare, you begin closing your eyes as your body gave into the effects of the drug, the last thing that you felt were Bruce kissing your forehead while Dick pecked your cheek.
Jason finally decides to drop by the Wayne manor, only to be greeted with the sight of reader lying on the kitchen floor. His heart stopped for a moment- you werent breathing-
"Y/n!" He rushed to your side, only to be smacked in the face by you.
"Shush. Dont be too loud." Your voice sounded like sandpaper against rocks.
Jason huffed. "Well, sorry for freaking out. I thought you were dead-"
"From a cough? Im not weak."
"Yeah? So, what exactly are you doing on the cold floor in the middle of the night?"
"..."
"Well?"
"What? So I cant even take a nap in this house? Jesus Christ, am I allowed to have any autonomy here?"
"Y/n." Jason called, clearly unamused by your sarcasm.
"Fine. I may have fallen and then didnt have the energy to get up, so im just catching my breath here."
"Why are you even out of bed?"
"I was hungry and Im not gonna drink another spoon of Alfred's bland soup again." Alfred made it bland on purpose so that your throat wouldnt be irritated.
"Please stop wasting whats left of your voice on complaints of the soup that you cant even taste." Jason chuckled as he picked you up, only for you to push at his chest weakly.
"I dont need your help. I can walk on my own."
Jason quirked a brow. "If you can make it to the front door without fainting or throwing up, I'll help you escape." You stared at the front door- it wasnt too far, but judging by the fact that its even hard for you to breathe properly and that youve fainted way too many times by just standing for more than a couple of minutes.
But youre stubborn. With great effort, you pushed yourself off Jason and used the kitchen island to pull yourself up. Jason decided to walk in front of you and stand near the kitchen exit because he really wanted to see your struggling face.
You took a trembling step, then another, one hand still using the support of the island until it ended and you were only a couple of feet away from Jason. At this point, you were already out of breath and when you took another step, your legs gave out and the room began spinning.
Luckily, Jason was quick to react. "Alright, just place your arm around mine- or just fall on me, that works too." He teased when you couldnt hold your body weight.
You slumped in his arms. "Just take me to my room." You huffed.
"Alright." Jason lifted your legs up and carried you back up the stairs. "You know you'd get better a lot faster if you just stayed in bed and took your medicine on time. Wouldnt that make your chances of escaping the manor better?"
You stared at him blankly. "Wow. The world must be ending for Jason Todd to be making logical suggestions."
Jason rolled his eyes as he tucked you in bed. "Im just saying, if you get better faster, you'll get to try running from us quicker too."
How do you explain to him that you just dont want to comply to them, even when they're helping you. How do you explain that you dont wanna listen to them because the soft pitiful, patronising look they get in their eyes when they look at you makes you wanna scream and carve your skin out. These are strangers, rich men who just kidnapped you to be a part of their family. No one is that kind. And nothing ever comes for free. Nothing.
"Do you need something? Food, perhaps?" Jason asked. You shook your head. "No, I think Im gonna throw up."
"Oh shit." Jason was hauling his ass out of the room t get you a bucket, only to return with a backpack.
You barely held your puke as you asked. "Wait- whose is this?"
"I dont know!? Damian's?!"
You grinned. "Oh, perfect." You proceeded to throw up into Damian's bag. That little shit just got on your nerves.
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BONUS:
"I know you have attachment issues with your blanket but its been a couple of days now and you need to let me wash it." Dick said, trying to tug it out of your grip.
You sniffled and glared. "Im not a child who needs their blankie, Dick. Im just too cold without it and no other blanket can warm me up the same way it does."
"Give the blankie, Y/n." Dick said seriously.
"Its not a blankie." You retorted, but before you could react, Tim suddenly grabbed you while Dick ripped away the blanket. And even though he immediately replaces it with a clean blanket, you still let out a gut wrenching cry
"You'll have it back tomorrow-" Tim starts saying, only for you to sneeze directly in his face, making him freeze.
"And that's why we use tissues." Dick says, wiping both your nose and Tim's face with tissues, while you're not making any effort to suppress the grin that comes on your lips.
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